


Mother Mary Comes To Me

by TheRiverScribe



Series: By the Grace of God [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Alternate Season/Series 12, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angel Sam Winchester, Angelic Grace, De-Aged Sam Winchester, Dean Talks About Feelings, Fledglings, Gen, Mary Wants Answers, Mother Hen Dean, Post-Episode: s11e23 Alpha and Omega, Post-Season/Series 11 AU, Protective Castiel, Protective Dean Winchester, Protective Gabriel, Protective Mary Winchester, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2016-10-25
Packaged: 2018-08-27 00:29:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8380381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRiverScribe/pseuds/TheRiverScribe
Summary: Mary Winchester has spent two days trying to keep up with all that's changed in 33 years.And now, she wants answers.





	

Mary Winchester was not new to exhaustion. Growing up in a hunting family, she was used to late nights full of worry and fear. Blood-soaked clothes were part of their normal laundry routine, and she could sew both fabric and skin by the time she hit adolescence. Combat and weaponry skills were regularly practiced by everyone in her house, and she balanced her school studies with learning creature lore. And through it all, she dreamed of a normal life.

John Winchester had given her that normal life, as well as two beautiful baby boys. Raising children and balancing budgets were exhausting in their own way. Sleepless nights with sick or fussy babies, and fights with her struggling veteran husband were just as taxing as battles with supernatural creatures. Her marriage wasn't perfect, but their rifts were always mended with time and effort, and her children were safe and loved. It was normal.

That all ended when she burned.

Two days ago, Dean had been a four year old—utterly devoted to his infant brother and bouncing with joy at the idea of teaching Sammy all the secrets of little boys. Now, thirty-three years had blown by in the blink of an eye. Dean was now a man hardened by the one life she never wanted for him. She occasionally saw glimpses of the boy she remembered. Unsurprising, it only came out when he interacted with his brother.

Sammy was another matter entirely. She had only six months with her baby before the fire. He was a stranger in so many ways—she never met the man he'd grown to be, and now that man was trapped in a child's body and changed by the grace of God. She had no idea what a person had to go through to damage their soul, but knowing her youngest had experienced it left her feeling hollow with helplessness.

It was a feeling she was growing used to since her return from death. For two days, she had watched this child repeatedly struggle with emotional issues for which she had no context. That is going to change, she told herself as she walked with determination over to where Dean and the two angels were hovering over her youngest.

Sam was lying on the floor with his upper torso braced against Gabriel's chest. She took in the pale skin, sweaty clothes and hair, and pinched features on her son's face. The whole episode had ended fifteen minutes ago, yet none of the men had moved Sam off the floor. Instead, they were talking in low voices about the mechanics of grace.

Mary cleared her throat until she had their attention, “Is it safe to move him?”

“Oh,” Gabriel looked down at the boy in his arms, “yeah, it should be fine. He'll probably sleep for a long while now that I drained the grace build up. I guess we should...”

Mary didn't wait for him to finish. Kneeling down, she got her arms under his shoulders and knees and hoisted him easily as she stood. “Dean, grab me a pair of pajamas. And one of you get me some warm water and a washcloth.” She gave them until she reached the couch to sit in stunned silence. “Now, please.” The sound of hasty footsteps made her smile. Never underestimate the power of a mother's voice.

She gently placed Sam on the cushions and began to strip off the soaked clothes. His skin was cool and clammy, but his breathing and color looked good and the movement didn't rouse him. Mary took a moment to marvel at how small her son seemed for a six year old. He was the same size as Dean at four. While she had no idea what he'd looked like as an adult, everyone's comments made her believe Sam had been quite large. She made a mental note to ask if they had any photos.

“You sure you don't want me to do that?” Dean stood next to her holding one of the shopping bags. Gabriel joined them carrying a large bowl, Castiel on his heels with what appeared to be half a linen closet.

“I'm pretty sure I remember how to dress little boys, Dean. I was doing this for you just a couple days ago. Relatively speaking.” She said, placing the bowl on the ground and eyeing the mass of cloth in Castiel's arms. Laughing, she gestured for him to dump it at the end of the couch, “I guess I should be glad you didn't get the water. You may have returned with a swimming pool.”

Dean spared an eye roll at Castiel's awkwardness, but stayed focused on his mother. “I know you did, but Sam's not...”

“Not what?” Mary asked when Dean trailed off, “Not a boy who has had multiple emotional meltdowns in the past twenty four hours? Or just not used to anyone besides you taking care of him?” she said as kindly as possible.

“Yeah, the, uh, second one.” Dean shifted uncomfortably.

“Well, maybe that is something both of you will get used to. Why don't you all take a seat. You can answer some questions while I do this.” She dipped one of the washcloths into the perfectly warm water and began wiping the sweat from Sam's body. The familiar act calmed her nerves and finally gave her a sense of purpose. She saw Dean perch next to the pile of linens, hovering nervously like he didn't quite trust her with his brother. “So who wants to explain what is happening to Sam?”

“It's his grace,” started Gabriel. He and Castiel were seated back on the other couch. “Fledglings have always been raised by the flock in Heaven. They are surrounded by skilled caretakers, and taught to control and exercise their grace from very early on. Everything is introduced slowly and under supervision.” He picked up his mug and made a face at the now-cold coffee. With a snap, the drink transformed into steaming hot chocolate piled high with marshmallows. Satisfied, he continued, “I don't know how much you've learned about angels since being back, but we exist as multi-dimensional celestial beings. It takes centuries for baby angels to mature. Until then, it's common for the little buggers to lose control and need to be reigned back in. But this little guy is unique.”

“Because he was human first?” Mary asked. She picked through the towels, looking for the softest. Dean handed her one and she took it with a smile. He would do that as a child when she would bathe infant Sammy, eager to help and participate in big-brother duties.

“Because Dad used His own grace to heal Sam's soul. The only other beings created that way were the archangels, and we were Dad's cherished sons. Sam? Sam wasn't raised by our Father, or allowed to grow into his grace like other angels. He's endured terrible things—I may not know all the details, but I can see where the scars are still healing. Dad brought me back in part because He knew Sam would need someone of my strength and ability to help guide him.”

“And He picked you?” Dean snorted in disbelief, “Why? 'Cause I gotta say, besides dying for us, you were a dick to us when you were alive.”

“Don't lie—you loved me.” Gabriel teased. A grunt noise made Mary turn in time to see the archangel rubbing his side and glaring at Castiel.

“Gabriel,” warned Castiel in a low rumble.

“Fine,” Gabriel pouted before turning his attention back to Dean, “Sam is essentially a fledgling archangel. That means only six beings in the universe can manage his grace while he learns control. Dad, Amara, Michael, Raphael, Lucifer, and myself. Now, Dad and His sister are away on vacation. So who would you prefer out of my three older brothers?”

“Yeah well, when you put it that way,” Dean cringed, “But that doesn't mean I trust you.”

Mary pulled out the pajamas and quickly dressed Sam, processing what Gabriel had said. The others waited in silence as she gently lifted Sam and sat down with him in her arms. She took a deep breath and looked over at Dean. Her voice quivered as she spoke, “What happened to cause his soul to become so damaged that God Himself needed to heal it?”

Dean leaned forward and buried his face in his hands. Mary watched him try to gather himself. She waited patiently, rocking her sleeping son for the first time in over three decades. Whatever Dean was working up the strength to say, Mary wanted to keep herself grounded in knowing that she had both her boys right here—to remember that they had survived.

“It was the apocalypse—our first of several. The Biblical end-of-the-world complete with the four horsemen and broken seals and all of heaven and hell moving to make sure it happened. You, uh, remember how Gabriel explained that angels need vessels exist on earth? Well, it turns out that only certain bloodlines produce compatible vessels. And Sam and I? Let's just say that you and dad didn't meet and fall in love by accident. Heaven made it so you two got together and had us. Because we...we were 'destined' to be their prize vessels for the big showdown.”

“What does that mean?” she prodded when he didn't continue.

“It means that I was meant to be the vessel for Michael. And Sam was...Sam was Lucifer's.” Dean didn't look at her.

Mary froze and unconsciously tightened her grip on Sam. “What happened?”

Dean stood and started pacing, unable to meet anyone's eyes. “We were out of options. Michael found...he found another vessel that could contain him. But Lucifer's vessel was falling apart. The only thing we had left was Gabriel's plan. The four horsemen each had a ring. Put together they formed a key that opened a direct door to Lucifer's cage in hell. Sam—he sacrificed himself to save the world.”

“How?”

“He said yes to Lucifer, regained control and jumped into the cage. Managed to drag Michael down with him.” Dean's voice was thick with emotions he hadn't dealt with in a long time.

“What?!” Gabriel exploded, jumping to his feet.

“What did you expect us to do? Lure him there with candy and push him in? Ask him nicely to jump?” Dean shot back

Gabriel looked devastated as he turned back to stare at Sam in horror. “I don't know, I...how did he even survive saying 'yes' long enough to fight my brother for control? His mind should have been burnt out immediately!”

“Maybe because he's stronger than any of you winged asshats care to admit!” Dean growled.

“It probably helped that he had an idea of what to expect—he drank gallons of demon blood and was able to mentally prepare beforehand.” Castiel said calmly.

Mary frowned at the growing list of things she'd have to ask about later. Drinking demon blood was definitely going near the top. “But he got out...”

“I tried to pull him out,” Castiel continued, giving Dean time to collect himself, “but I only succeeded in rescuing his body. His soul was left behind for a year and a half until we were able to retrieve it and return it to his body.”

“A year and a half? His soul spent a year and a half locked in a cage with Lucifer?” she gasped.

“Actually,” Castiel glanced at Dean but his friend's back was turned away from them, “time moves differently in Hell, and possibly even slower in the cage. He spent at least two centuries at the mercy of Lucifer and Michael.”

Tears fell unnoticed down her cheeks as she tried to wrap her head around the idea that her baby carried the memories and damage from two hundred years of torture. “Okay...okay, um, just give me a minute...” Her hands shook as they traced the curls falling around pink cheeks. The boy's extreme reactions suddenly made much more sense. Sam's face turned into her touch and she held him closer.

For the first time since being confronted by her adult son, Mary truly felt the enormity of her loss—their loss. It wasn't just the years, or all the 'firsts' like words and steps, that she'd missed. Her actions led their family on this path of pain and destruction. Her deal with the yellow-eyed demon was what started everything.

“Mom,” Dean's broken voice interrupted her spiraling thoughts and she felt the couch dip as he sat beside her, “I'm so sorry. I should never...”

“No, Dean,” she shook her head as more tears escaped, “This is my fault. I did this to you boys. I made a deal with the demon who killed me long before you boys were even born. I knew better, but...but John...”

“I know,” Dean stopped her, “It's a running theme in our family. We've all done things to bring each other back. Sam and I more than anyone.”

Mary's grief froze at his words. “You...you know about my deal? But how? No one knew, not even John.”

“Um, long story short? Time travel. I was there when all that went down, but the angels wiped your memory.”

“Neither of you are to blame,” Gabriel said firmly. He was standing and his eyes blazed gold. “When Dean said that Heaven made sure you met John Winchester and had these boys, he wasn't exaggerating. They manipulated bloodlines for generations to ensure their creation. Nothing was left to chance. So no matter what you did or didn't do, it all would have turned out the same. Everything happened for the purpose of bringing about the apocalypse. Do you understand?”

“Why?” Mary asked, horrified at what he was saying, “Why would the angels want to end the world?”

Gabriel sighed, “Because Daddy dearest skipped town and didn't leave any instructions. My brothers thought they were being obedient to His prophesied plan. Turns out it was a test of free will, not obedience. Actually,” he glanced sadly at Castiel, “most of the angels didn't even know Dad was gone. They just followed Michael's orders and never questioned that they might not be coming from God.”

Castiel nodded and his eyes shined with pain, “Disobedience is not tolerated. It's met with heavy re-education and punishment. I...I am still not sure how many times I had my mind broken and reprogrammed before I rebelled and fell completely. But I do know that Heaven can be as cruel as Hell when it comes to torture and corruption.”

“At least you expect it from demons.” Dean said.

“Well, all that is going to change.” Gabriel declared with confidence.

“What does that mean?” Castiel sat forward in attention.

Gabriel sighed and moved back to sit beside his brother, “It means that I'm not the only one Dad is restoring. Like I was trying to say earlier before the kid went nuclear, Dad is remaking Raphael and healing Michael in His pocket-universe bar as we speak. And believe me, He will not be returning them to Heaven until they've had a nice long talk. Like, decades or centuries long.”

“Explain how that is going to make things better.” Dean ground out through clenched teeth.

Mary could feel her eldest vibrating with anxiety. It made her even more certain that Sam hadn't been overreacting earlier. And it wasn't simply an issue of his grace being out of control.

“Michael and Raphael—they used to be very different. Sure, Micky was always the leader of the garrisons and Dad's number one warrior, but he was a champion of justice. He was kind and loving—especially to children. He wasn't just a soldier, he was a protector of the innocent. And Raphael,” Gabriel's smile was the saddest thing Mary had ever seen, “Y'all never saw the real Raphael. He was the first healer of heaven. The gentlest, most nurturing of all the angels. But they both lost their way without our Father. We all did. After Lucifer—everything just fell apart.”

Mary studied the two sitting across from her. Even though she knew they were angels and had witnessed their powerful grace, she still saw the same brokenness that came from deep wounds and torn families. She saw it in her own boys. Remembered seeing it in John when he told her how his father had walked out on his mother. It made her want to gather them all to her and never let go.

“So your Father, um Chuck, is reconciling with them? Or healing them, or whatever it is you do with angels?” Mary asked.

Gabriel nodded and gave her a small genuine smile. “Yeah,” he said softly, “He's working with them, reminding them of who they were meant to be. Purging the corruption and all that jazz.”

“And He did the same for you?” Mary pushed gently.

“We talked,” Gabriel shrugged, but she saw through the attempt at nonchalance, “I went in kinda the opposite direction as my brothers. I ran from heaven and fully embraced free will down here with the pagans. Took the side of humanity during the apocalypse instead of Team Michael or Team Lucifer. But I'd forgotten what it meant to be an archangel—to be my Father's messenger. Dad reminded me of that.”

Castiel cleared his throat, “So He is placing Heaven back into the hands of Michael and Raphael?”

“Yup!” Gabriel grinned.

“And He sent you here? To help with Sam?” Dean sounded incredulous, “Why?”

“Why what, Deano?”

“Why would He go through all the trouble to fix three archangels, give two of them the job of handling all of heaven and send you here to babysit my brother? Shouldn't you be out, like, delivering His messages again or something?” Mary watched Dean lean forward, a suspicious frown on his face.

Gabriel placed his hot chocolate back on the table and stared back at Dean for several moments, searching for some unnamed thing. Eventually, he huffed a laugh and shook his head, “Man, I can't believe how wrong I was about you boys.”

Dean was immediately on the defensive, “What's that supposed to mean?”

“When I first met you two knuckleheads, I thought you were so arrogant. Big, strong hunters who saw themselves as judge, jury, and executioner to all things not human. During the whole Mystery Spot fiasco, I watched Sam become consumed with saving you no matter the cost. I tried so hard to teach him to let you go—not just for his own sanity, but because I was convinced you two saw yourselves as more important than the rest of humanity. But I was wrong, wasn't I?” Dean shifted uncomfortably beside Mary, but didn't answer. “You weren't driven by some selfish notion of being better than others—you did it because you think your lives are only worth sacrificing.”

“What?!” Dean tried to laugh, but it came out all wrong and he refused to meet anyone's eyes, “That's not true!”

“Really?” Gabriel sat back, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow, “How many times have you and Sam sacrificed yourselves to save either the world or the other brother?”

“I don't know. What does it matter? We've made mistakes—selfish, stupid mistakes. What does that have to do why God sent you here to help Sam?”

Mary's stomach dropped when her son couldn't count how many times he and Sam had died. She knew the kind of toll a hunter's life had on a person. It was why she had fought so hard to give her boys the 'normal' she never had. But she recognized that her life as a hunter must have been quite different from Sam and Dean's experience.

The Campbell family held a long line of hunters. Knowledge was passed down over generations, and they had relied on a network of family and friends who shared the burden. But John had no knowledge of the supernatural until after her death. His combat skills were based on experience in the war as a soldier. He would have had no contacts or specialized weapons or books on lore. And he raised their boys while on a mission of revenge.

Her horror must have shown on her face because Gabriel was looking at her with sad understanding. “It matters because no other humans in history have done as much for my father's creations as you two boys. Not only that—you gave Him back His sister, healing a wound that predates, well, almost everything. He loves all of humanity, but you Winchesters are His favorite. You are special to Him in ways beyond measure. ”

Dean shuddered at the intensity of Gabriel's words, shaking his head when his eyes became too blurred to see. “I...I didn't,” he choked out past the burning in his throat, “I didn't even believe He really existed until a week or so ago.”

“That just makes Him love you even more,” Gabriel gave a crooked smile, “Because you sacrificed everything for the sake of humanity. Not out of some sense of devotion or obedience, but because it was the right thing to do.”

Mary carefully rearranged her hold on Sam so her left hand was free to rest on Dean's back. She felt him jump at her touch, but then leaned into it. His face was etched in emotion and exhaustion, and it reflected exactly what she was feeling as well. “I think we may want to call it a night. It's been a very long couple of days, and we all need some time to process,” Mary said, even though she knew there was so much more to learn. They had only gone over a tiny fraction of events that had shaped her boys' lives, but even without the details she felt overwhelmed.

Dean nodded and scrubbed at his face with his hands, “Yeah, good plan,” his eyes met hers and softened, “I still can't believe you're really here. I mean, part of me feels like you've been here a lifetime and I keep forgetting you've only been back a couple days, but the rest of me still can't wrap my head around the fact that you're real.”

Mary laughed and gave a watery smile, “Like I said, we all need time to process. A week ago, I was changing diapers and thought laundry was the bane of my existence.”

Leaning over, Dean wrapped his arms around both his mother and Sam. Just holding them without speaking and basking in the feeling of family and safety. Mary closed her eyes and reminded herself that regardless of what all they had experienced, they had also survived.

The sound of a throat clearing had them reluctantly pulling apart. Gabriel and Castiel stood next to them looking tired and rumpled and nothing like the powerful beings of Heaven. “All right kids, it's bedtime for humans and baby angels. Let's get you settled for the night before you pass out right here.” Gabriel crouched down in front of Mary and placed a hand on her shoulder. His eyes darted down to Sam, silently asking for permission. She nodded and allowed him to gently gather her boy into his arms. Dean made a disgruntled noise, and she had to admit that her arms felt suddenly empty and weightless at the loss. The archangel whispered in his own language to her sleeping son, but Mary understood the soothing tones.

A hand entered her range of vision and she looked up to find Castiel offering assistance to her and Dean. He pulled her up effortlessly, and she almost laughed as she watched her eldest try to slap away the angel's arm. “Go on, I'll be there in a minute,” her son ordered only to have Castiel roll his eyes as he grabbed Dean's jacket and yanked him off the couch.

“Cas, what the hell man!?” Dean sputtered.

“You will not 'be there in a minute,'” Castiel said, and Mary felt a tad hysterical at his use of air-quotes, “You are in need of sleep, not alcohol and solitary contemplation.”

“What are you, my mother?” he said without thinking. It took a second for his words to catch up to him and when they did he shot Mary a guilty glance. Dean cleared his throat and focused back on his best friend, “I mean, I'm a grown man and do not need you to tell...”

“Would you prefer I carry you?” Castiel interrupted, eyes narrowing.

“Would you prefer spending the night in a ring of holy fire?” Dean immediately shot back.

Tilting his head, the angel stared down the human. The human stared back.

Mary felt an arm link with her elbow, and turned to see Gabriel looking delighted, “Come on,” he said as he led her away. He was cradling Sam in one arm effortlessly and giggling to himself as they made it to the hallway. “Those two stare at each other like old married couples fight.”

A glance over her shoulder showed her that neither stubborn being had moved. “In what way?” she asked, turning back to the archangel.

“In the way that it happens constantly, unconsciously, and they are completely unaware how uncomfortable it makes others when it happens in public,” he whispered, wiggling his eyebrows until she giggled with him. “You know,” he said as she showed him to the room with the combined beds, “I think we are going to be great friends.”

“Friends with the archangel Gabriel,” she said in a bewildered tone, “I never saw this as my future.”

Gabriel released her arm so she could gather up the sleep clothes from the night before. All their new stuff was still in bags on the war table, but there was no way she was going to traverse back through the intense staring to retrieve them. These would do for one more night.

“You aren't the first Mother Mary I've been sent to by my Father,” Gabriel said as he sat on the sofa cuddling her son. The nostalgic and slightly-awed look in his eyes as he traced Sam's curls with a light touch made Mary wonder how long he'd been separated from his family. The soft expression seemed out-of-place, like he'd forgotten how to show anything but confidence and snark.

“Oh? Were you friends with her too?”

“Nah, I just gave her the message that she was preggo and went on my merry way,” his voice dropped to a whisper when Sam shifted in his sleep.

Mary sat next to them on the sofa, “And do you have a message to deliver here too? Or are you really here to help with Sammy?”

“What makes you think I haven't already delivered the message?” he asked without a trace of sarcasm. She frowned, confused, and he gave her a smile that carried a depth of power and understanding that left her breathless. “Humans often believe my Father's messages are complicated and incomprehensible, but most of the time they are incredibly simple. So simple they can be overlooked or dismissed.  
“God wants the Winchesters to know that they are loved. It is a message that will need repeating—sometimes daily, sometimes hourly. Yes, I am here to help guide Sam, but that is part of the message. These boys have sacrificed everything, time and time again, and expected nothing but pain and death in return. You will learn more about them over time, and see that a message of unconditional love will not be understood or accepted easily.”

“Well, they haven't had their mother to help teach them,” she said with a shaky smile.

Gabriel's grin was blinding, “Atta girl. You speak those words of wisdom.”

“Did you just quote the Beatles?” she laughed, standing to go get changed.

“Why don't you go get changed and just let it be?” he said with a wink.

By the time Mary was settled in bed, they were rejoined by Dean and Castiel. The tension was gone and her eldest melted into the mattress, asleep before Castiel could even cover him with the blanket. She watched as the angel grabbed an extra blanket from the brothers' beds and joined Gabriel on the sofa. He placed it around her son who was still sleeping in the shorter man's arms.

“Are you going to hold him all night?” she asked.

“Yeah. That way I'll know if his grace starts to act up right away. Less dangerous to everyone who can't defend against it.” Gabriel blushed when he looked up to see even Castiel smiling at him in a knowing way. “What!? Can't a guy bond with the newest baby in the flock?” he asked, clearly flustered.

“Get me up if he needs anything, okay?” Mary waited until he nodded before continuing, “And Gabriel? Thank you.”

Gabriel smiled and nodded again, “You should know, Mamma Winchesters, that His message was for you as well. Sleep well, Mary.”

She closed her eyes before any more tears could form and drifted off feeling protected and loved by the angels watching over them.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to everyone who has commented!  
> Comments feed my soul!!
> 
> Come be my friend on Tumblr @theriverscribe


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